


Never to Be Forgotten

by Amatorachan



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Ganon - Freeform, Gen, Hugs, Implied Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Legend of Zelda References, Light Angst, My First Fanfic, Open to Interpretation, Other, POV First Person, POV Original Character, Questioning, Symbolism, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 10:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14616732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amatorachan/pseuds/Amatorachan
Summary: Legends are passed down for a reason. I always thought that these stories were meant to teach us lessons, to better understand how lives came to be before logic and reason began. I however, always thought that these stories were just that. Stories. (Zelda AU? I left it open to interpretation. Told through an OC.) One-Shot





	Never to Be Forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Hello lovely readers. This is my first one shot, so please read and let me know what you think. I'm very much an amateur when it comes to this and writing in general hahaha.
> 
> Also, I'd recommend listening to the link below while reading. It should help with atmosphere of what I wrote: watch?v=zPlKDLNWh84
> 
> (Song of Storms arrangement is done by Lilypichu (just so I credit her wonderful arrangement that inspired me to write this one-shot) )
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

   Legends are passed down for a reason. I always thought that these stories were meant to teach us lessons, to better understand how our lives came to be before logic and reason. To explain how life worked before the invention of the scientific method, of hypothesizes and data. I however, always thought that these stories were just that. Stories.

   From the Creation stories of the three Goddesses Din, Farore and Nayru, to the myth surrounding the Triforce, and finally to the most famous of all fables, the Legend of the Hero of Time. All of which had been passed down through generation after generation by tradition. Everyone knew of these stories, legends and fables. Children in the streets would play fight and reenact the climactic battle between Link and Ganon. Link of course, wining every time, raising the sacred Master Sword in one final sweeping motion against the evil desert king, at last freeing the lost land from evil and despair. I however, have always been skeptical of these stories being factually accurate. Rather, I would simply not believe in them.

   Even as a child, I remember I would get angry and frustrated sighs from my parents due to my cynical nature towards these stories. Always doubtful and unconvinced of them. Never wanting to give any credence to such things. The only person that would stop my sharp and almost antagonistic tongue from saying more would be when my mother would start to weep, with my father looking at me with shame and disgust. Appalled that I didn't believe in these stories or attach any modicum of weight to their truth like they did. This was the only time that I ever made my mother cry, and I've promised since then to never do it again. It was also the only time that I had ever felt regret for my actions.

   From then on, I knew that I had to keep my thoughts on these fantasies and old figments from a past lost to time, to myself. The last thing I wanted was to make my mother upset again. Or my father to look at me with shame as he did before. I loved them, and still do. I did well in my studies and eventually started working for the Royal Historical Society, a prestigious institute that specialized in history. It was the only institute that had exclusive access into the Ancient Royal Library that held numerous upon numerous bookshelves filled to the brim with tomes, papers, and books. Some of which that dated back to the very beginning of our land. I was part of the team that was in charge of translating these old texts so we could learn from them. To learn of a past that was once lost to memory.

   Among these ancient texts, I came across what appeared to be an old history book, or at least what I thought was a history book, hidden deep within the library in a secret room that I...embarrassingly enough, discovered by accident. And upon my first translation, what puzzled me more, and slightly irked me, was that the legends that I had so desperately balked at mentally, appeared in this text written as if it was a first account. I had tried redoing the translation of this text over and over and over again several times, thinking that maybe I had done something wrong during the arduous process of switching between the Old Language and our modern one... but it was the exact same, every single time. I even had one of my colleagues translate the text for comparison... but they came upon a similar translation. A similar conclusion.

   What was discovered was not a history book. It was a first-hand account of the Legend of the Hero of Time from someone that was intimately close to him and may have been there during the fabled battle. In other words, the text was a diary. The diary looked to be written by a noble woman based on the content, how she expressed herself, and the eloquent language she implemented. From her word choice down to her quill strokes, but no name was given. And it didn't help that the first few pages were unreadable, worn down from time. Only a date could be seen, and it was a date that shook the very foundation of the historical society to its core.

   Upon analyzing the paper and ink that was used in the diary as well, the society came to the conclusion that the text was written over five thousand years ago. An amazing feat considering the condition of this ancient document was in almost in superb condition. Not counting the first few pages, obviously. As if magic had kept its original shape after all of these years, waiting for its original owner to come find it and write in it again. However, due to the aforementioned unreadable writing on the first few pages, we will never know the true owner of this diary. Despite that, it's the last page of the diary that is the most interesting to me as it's the only entry that had no date. The writing style also changed, as well as the penmanship. From eloquent strokes with careful precision to almost unreadable chicken-scratch, as if the noble woman was writing in a rush during her final moments, but of course that's just my personal speculation due to the content.

It read:

_Our land is done for. We have nothing left._

_My kingdom is in a fiery shambles, in regretful ruin._

_Even after saving this land from evil, it was not enough._

_Yet, my dear Diary, I feel pity for the holder of the Triforce of Power._

_Of a king that wanted to do right for his people, that I took away._

_That I didn't realize before it was too late._

_My only regret was not helping the Gerudo when they needed it most._

_Now, their clan is also in ruin, much like my kingdom._

_Wherever he is in the after-life,_

_I hope that he will find it in his dark soul to forgive me._

_I will break the curse the affects all three of us._

   Whoever's diary this was, she seemed to know about the Triforce, was around when the proud Gerudo were alive and knew Ganon, the infamous King of the Gerudo. In fact, the writer during most of her other entries possessed a seething hatred for the man. Yet, as "her" kingdom fell into ruin, all she had left was regret. Admittedly in our history, about five thousand years were lost. We don't know what exactly happened during this time. The society, and myself included, have speculated for years what exactly happened during this point in history, and we've come to call it the Dark Ages. A name that was fitting, considering how little information exists during this time. Not only were the people during that time in the dark to the happenings of the world, so too are we in future deciphering these texts. We don't know what transpired or took place. But, this diary possesses a piece of the puzzle. A piece of a history that we will never understand. We can only try, no matter how futile that try was and still is...

   Our society speculated for months on end about the contents of the secret room as well. Of the other books, tomes, and texts. However, there was not one piece of evidence that uncovered the name of the woman in the diary. Or the curse that she mentions.

   But lying undisturbed on the stone ground, as if thrown hastily in retreat from the table within this secret room, was a map. An ancient map that was marked with an X located where what would've been the Lost Woods all those years ago. The forest is still there, but rumors abound that place in darkness and mystery. No one has entered the godforsaken forest in years, nor has anyone tried to map it out due to the superstitious tall-tales that surround it. Rumors of how during times of famine, our people of the past would send the sick and the dying to their deaths to those woods, which are now filled with angry and vengeful spirits. Or how they turned into Stalfos, giant skeleton knights to guard the forest from anyone who entered them. Or of other stories, like the moral fairy-tales of the illusive Kokiri that would whisk away naughty children to their village to never be seen again. Some even ending the tale with the naughty children being turned into trees by the Kokiri. No one has been able to substantiate the truth in these stories. So that's what they've become to my annoyance. Just stories.

  Yet, so many questions burned into my mind. Why would a noble woman risk her life to go into the Lost Woods of all places? Was it to escape the dying Kingdom as she stated in her diary? To run away? And what was causing the Kingdom to fall in the first place? What  _is_  located in this forest? And more importantly, why would this noble woman leave this map behind? Someone could've easily followed her. Even if this room was a secret to everyone.

   Upon analyzing and comparing the map with our modern ones, the Royal Historical Society decided that it needed to send someone to the one forest that was the closest match, located in the south-eastern part of the continent, near the mountains that surround our country. They wanted someone to venture to the forest to see if there was something important that laid deep within them. And with no hesitation, I volunteered to go as I was the one that found the secret room in the first place. While they wanted me to go with another scholar, I refused. Stating that they knew I was one of the best scholars in my field. That I could defend myself and that I would be careful. After a little bit of arguing with the Head Historian, he agreed to let me go alone but on one condition. He would only let me go alone if and only if, I carried an Amulet of Light for luck due to the forests reputation. I begrudgingly agreed and accepted the amulet, wrapping it around my neck and hiding it underneath my shirt.

   I made my preparations, filled my backpack with supplies including the diary, and left the safety of the castle walls into the Great Field. Passing the famous Lon Lon Ranch, known for their great horses. Kakariko village, known for its extensively large graveyard and royal burial grounds. Death Mountain, once the home of the Goron's stood proud and defiant in the horizon near Kakariko village, even when the fire long within the mountain had long since fizzled away into nothingness as well as the people that once live there. I even passed the road that led to Zora's Domain, which now lies empty and barren of said people. I had passed other various, but important historical landmarks that the rest of the members would've been excited to see. And then finally, after a days' journey, I came upon the entrance to the infamous forest by dawn. Despite myself, I knew that I had to tread the forest with care. Who knows what could be lurking in the dark shadows? Of what horrors and monsters that laid in the depths of these woods? If the stories were true anyway. Still, you could never be too careful.

   Upon crossing the old bridge and entering the woods, trees with its luscious green leaves towered mightily above the ground despite the age of the wide and ancient brown tree trunks that bared its branches. The sun peaked through the dense canopy of the trees, casting a soft glow upon the mossy and dew filled grass. Wild flowers peppered, almost carelessly on the ground, colors ranging in pristine beauty and elegance laying unperturbed. It's birds unseen in the trees chirped quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the gentle soliloquy of peace and silence that echoed throughout this place. And here I was, intruding on such a beautifully haunting and almost sacred realm.

   With each footstep I made, I had the disturbing inclination to turn back. To go back to the overpopulated city, as if I was wrong to be stepping upon such sacred ground. But yet I continued, passing through giant hollowed out tree trunks, with only my wit to guide me. There were moments where I felt disoriented with these trunks leading me back to where I once started. Even with my map, it troubled and unsettled me that I would time and time again, appear at the entrance from whence I came! It made me wonder what kind of magic was bestowed upon this forest. Or at the very least, it made me wonder about what happened to people who became lost the deeper they descended. But after a somewhat embarrassingly long period of trial and error, I finally came across to what I believed was the X on the ancient map.

  And in this sacred wood, hidden deep within emerald moss, among the dense bushes and branches of the trees, laid a cobble-stoned temple hiding away from the world, a sad and forlorn reminder of a time long passed. With four ornate columns that decorated the outside to what appeared to be an ancient courtyard. It was in the worst state of decay and disrepair that I had ever seen, the stone cracked with age, exposed to the elements. The color of white shaven off from wind exposure and other elements, leaving nothing but the gray stone underneath. The courtyard was overrun with plant life, that grew above and beyond what was left of the stone wall that circled the temple grounds. Even the stone benches were undeniable marred with cracks that desecrated its once ornate features. Or at least what was left of them. Old drawings that had been craved in pristine detail on the walls had also faded into obscurity, never again able to tell the stories that they once portrayed.

  And within the temple, in the middle of a stone circle surrounded by a staircase, laid an empty pedestal. A stone sheath to a weapon that had long left it's comfort. Parts of the staircase had fractured and withered with time, the stone floor almost gone, covered with overgrown grass and wild flowers. Windows that used to hold graceful and symmetrical stained glass figures of the sages, laid on the ground. Cracked from the fall, discolored and almost washed away due to weather and lack of upkeep. To say the least, the temple was barely hanging on to what little life it had left. As lackluster and unfulfilling as it was.

   It...moved me to say the least. I was absolutely in awe, exhilarated and even excited that such a temple existed that could be looked and studied at. But...I was also annoyed at the existence of this temple, as it made a legitimate case for the legends that I used to laugh at. Could this be the Temple of Time from legend? Was the Master Sword real and was this the place it rested before Link took it? Does this mean that Link and Zelda were real? And if they were real, what happened to them? Did they die? Did Ganon die as well? Could...could it be possible that the diary was Zelda's? Why did she leave it behind? Did she want to be found? Why did she leave a map? Is the legend based off of true events? Did it actually happen? What is the curse that the diary mentions?... _Did it actually happen?_  So many questions strewed endlessly in my mind. Thoughts sustaining ceaselessly as I continued to inspect the beautiful and hauntingly empty temple.

   But, by the time I had thoroughly explored the temple as much as I could, the day had begun to descend into twilight, the sun's colors expressed elegantly the passage of time, with radiant glows of oranges, hues of purple, blushes of reds and a light tint of dark blue beneath, indicating that night was about to ascend upon the heavens. And when the night settled into its natural place within the cosmos, beautiful stars shimmered unboundedly and uncountable across the vast expanse of the sky. Glittering with resplendent serenity as they strewed endlessly across the sky. The forest also became silent with the night, as only the gentle chirping of grasshoppers could be heard.

   I decided that I felt safe enough to rest within the temple, away from the prying eyes of advantageous predators. Even with some of the walls being cracked to an almost broken state, I felt calm and safe. Unpacking my backpack, I made the necessary preparations for the night, lit a fire and ate a travel meal. And finally, as I slipped into my sleeping bag, going over the legends again in my mind, asking myself the same questions that I've asked myself numerous times today, I went into peaceful slumber and dreamed. And there in my dream, amongst the void of nothingness, stood an almighty, powerful and intimidating man with dark gray skin, red eyes, and long glowing hair of fiery crimson...But it couldn't be the man that I had read about in legend. He looked tired, worn, and almost withered, his form ebbing away with time. His dark gilded armor marred with scars, chipped with age from previous battles that he once fought so long ago. He then gazed upon me.

   "Who are you?" he asked as he stared directly into my eyes, as if peering into my soul. After several moments of silence between us as I stared at him in disbelief and awe, his gaze softened slightly, "Are you the amalgamation of the past? Or a figment of a memory long gone? Or possibly, someone that I once knew long ago?"

   "I am none of those things." I answered quietly, yet quickly. I was about to ask who he was, but from my readings of ancient history in Geruden texts and from my memory of the what I thought were tall-tales and ridiculous fables...I believe that the man that was in front of me was the legendary Ganon...or at least what was left of him.

   He then turned his gaze away from me to stare silently into the void, his expression before turning his head melancholic. The void then transposed, and showcased the very stars that laid above me before I fell into slumber. The stars still shimmering their glow that dotted across the vast expanse of the night sky. I then casted my gaze towards my feet and was shocked to see that we were standing high above the land on an ethereal floor of light that almost looked invisible, translucent even. The land below us far away, much like the man that was before me from his rightful place in history and in time. I then looked back to him, his back still facing me.

   "Why have you come?" he then asked wistfully, "Is it to mock a man that never fulfilled his dream?"

   "No," I quickly answered, concern etched in the timbre of my voice, "I..didn't mean to intrude into this realm." He turned to look at me again, his dark red eyes held a piercing gaze. Intently trying to piece together in his mind what I was. His eyes then slightly widened.

   "You...look like them." he stated softly, almost in disbelief, "The man that I fought so very long ago and the woman that fought with him. But just like that land, they also are gone." He then turned his back to me again, lifting his head up as if he was looking for something, searching the sky and it's uncountable stars for some kind of answer. Several moments of contemplative silence passed us both. Before I could say another word, he started to speak again, his voice bleeding with grief.

   "My people suffered in the desert. They struggled to survive. At night we would freeze only to burn with the rising dawn.  _Their_  land was prosperous beyond measure...and so was their wind." He then turned to face me again, his face holding a proud yet melancholic expression.

   "Funny how not only their land is gone, but so too is that prosperous wind that I coveted so. All that now remains...is me," He shook his head, "In a way, I've won. The two people that were the bane of my existence are dead, yet... I've also lost. At the end of it all, Link and Zelda both won. Now and forever." As he ended his sentence, the once mighty King of the Gerudo looks downcast toward the ground.

   "I'm...the only one now. Not just of my people, but...I am the only semi-living being left from a time long lost. Or whatever I am. Never did I think that this would be my last incarnation." his voice wavering slightly, his tone dejected.

   "Ganon..." I start only to pause myself from saying more. I realized that I could never understand what the man before me has been through. Never could I understand what he had suffered and pained through.

   "A land now dead and gone." he continues, "In ashes and ruin." His head then returns to look at me once more, his gaze intense even when the fire in his eyes had long since dwindled to a sad, weak flame, "You..still haven't answered my question." he stated simply. I shivered in fear as I tried to quickly gather my thoughts to answer him.

   "As I said before, I didn't mean to enter this realm. I didn't even know that this kind of place existed. You see, I found this old diary recounting the battle you had with Link in great detail. As if the person was there." I answered, trying to keep my fear in check, most likely failing miserably. He suddenly reached out his hand to me.

   "Give it to me." he politely ordered. Unbeknownst to me, I had the diary in my right hand, as if I had willed it into my dreams. The book then lifted itself from my hands and gently floated to the intimidating figure that was Ganon. Upon looking into the diary, turning the contents within with a nearly delicate touch, Ganon started to chuckle, his tone melancholic."I recognize this handwriting anywhere." he said with a spiritless chuckle.

   "This is Zelda's."

   Zelda's? No. Absolutely not. I refused to believe it. I couldn't, after everything that I've said and done. Even if I was coward that barely said much of anything at all about my opinion on such stories. Mentally chastising others for simply believing in them. However, as much as I wanted to scream at this man and tell him that he's wrong, undoubtedly wrong, I had to keep my calm. I'm part of a historical society, a member with a good reputation and high esteem among the other members, and I had to try and keep myself impartial to information. Even when it shook the very core of my identity, as hidden from the world as it was.

   "That's impossible," I quickly and calmly retorted, "We have no record of there ever being a ruler by that name."

   "I find that hard to believe young one," he countered, his eyes still fixed on the contents of the diary. I could feel my face pout in annoyance at his answer. I cross my arms and say, "We have no record of her existence. She's only ever appeared in legends alongside Link."

   "What of this diary then?" he asked, "Does this not count as evidence?" his tone exuding a sense of amusement, despite the sadness held within his timbre. I admitted to myself at that moment...that he was right. As much as it pained me to admit, there was no other conclusion. At least one that I could up with at the moment. He had no idea how much his question shook me, but I held myself firmly. Or at least, I thought I did. Despite myself, I shook my head in disbelief.

   "Why would she go to this forest then?" I asked. He looks up from the diary and without pause and replied simply,

   "To die."

   Before I could raise my voice to counter his claim, he continued, "She knew that her death would set the end in motion. She came to the realization that her and Link's death would let this land live on without conflict. She figured out how to end the curse that befell all three of us. Not just me."

   "Where were you during this time?" I inquired, still trying to keep my emotions in check, even if I was failing.

   "I had already been killed by Link's hand." he answered again simply, smirking gloomily in amusement at my reaction.

   "Then...why are you still here?" I asked. He slightly shrugged.

   "I honestly could not tell you, young one. I have been stuck in perpetual limbo for so long that I have lost count of how many years it has been." After several moments, I softly sighed. I still didn't understand why he was still here. Maybe his spirit needed help moving on? Whatever the case, I felt a strange compulsion to help this man.

   "Then, I think you need to read the last page." I told him, again trying to stay as monotone as possible, "I think it'll be enlightening for you."

   He looks down at the book and gently turned to the last page of the diary, his fingers grasping the page with such care. After what seemed like an eternity, his eyes slightly widen as he read the text, and as he was reading it, I spoke, my voice almost failing to break.

   "She...wants you to be at peace Ganon. As you said before, there's nothing left...of Hyrule." I said, trying to convince this spirit...or whatever he is to move on and rest.

   "So...she does. " he replied. Ganon then slowly closed the book and it gently floated back into my hands.

   Suddenly, he started to walk toward me calmly until he is only a few inches away from me. Due to his massive height compared to me, I didn't know what to expect. I admit now that I was scared of him, and I had every right to be. A man that had killed thousands, upon hundreds of thousands of soldiers for his goals. Maybe it's from all the stories that have been told, or the scant accounts that had been written down, but he was a man that should be feared but also regarded in a way. My eyes widened with every step that he as he gets closer to me. He then held out his hand.

   "May I see your hand?" he asked calmly. I timidly held out my hand, which were tiny in comparison to his own. He then handed me a ring. A beautifully ornate ring that held the markings of the Gerudo, with striking rubies that brilliantly beamed. If I remembered correctly, Ganon was known to wear a ring that gave him power, but I could not believe it. Nor could I accept such a priceless heirloom.

   "What is this?" I asked, my uneasiness apparent, but not intentional.

   "A reminder of a man that tried to attain a dream not only for his people, but for himself...and his failing in doing so. A reminder of his folly." he said simply.

   He then did something that I would have never expected in his character. Of a hardened, rugged warrior...

   He hugged me. A hug that was tender, his arms resting gently on my frame. A hug so merciful, it soothed away my fear of him. He then said something that I will never forget.

   "But also...of his forgiveness."

   After he whispered his words into my ear and stepped away from me, the once proud King of the Gerudo withered into dust, freeing himself into the wind. Disappearing with time, wilting away with the dream of his conquest, glory for a long forgotten and dead land. I then awoke from my dream with a start, flabbergasted and stunned as to what I saw. I could not tell what the meaning of my dream was for and shook my head to clear it, trying to piece together the very dream that I've described to you. At first I was going to right off my dream as just that, a dream.

   However, in my pocket, was the very ring he gave me. The ornate details as beautifully detailed and as vivid as I saw within my dream. With a heavy sigh, as rain started its descent from the dark clouds above, with me clutching the ancient and ornate ring tightly in my hand, I started my journey out of the forest and back to the city to report what I've discovered. Leaving behind the abandoned, empty temple, its pedestal forever vacant of the very sword of legend. And upon leaving the entrance of this sad forest, I took hold the Amulet of Light and carefully lifted it from hiding, letting it rest gently outside of my shirt.

   Legends...are past down for a reason. At first, I thought they were just that. Legends and stories. Concoctions of fantasy and fabrications to explain reality. But...I believe I've come to..a better understanding of them and their importance. They are passed down so that the land and the people behind the legend, could never be forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note (Again):
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I'm sorry that it was so long, but I just kept going and going...and going, but hey, it's done! I admit that it's a bit pretentious looking at it now, but I have to start somewhere. Be sure to let me know what you liked and disliked about it. Or if you have any questions and I'll try to answer them to the best of my ability. I hope you enjoyed it. I don't know if I'll write more fanfiction, but you never know lol.


End file.
